


Transcendent

by paperfeathers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Samifer Week 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 02:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperfeathers/pseuds/paperfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam asks Lucifer a question. Unapologetic fluff for Samifer Week 2013. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transcendent

They’re lying in bed, curled around each other, sheets rumpled from yet another night spent mapping out each other's bodies. Lucifer’s carding absent fingers through Sam’s hair when Sam asks the question. He’s not afraid to do it, exactly. More wary than anything else. This thing they have between them is exhilaratingly new, and they’re still both learning what it means to be together while being themselves. Lucifer never gets angry when Sam pushes (light but insistent) at his boundaries, always answers whatever Sam asks. But sometimes there’s a closed-off weight to him, as if he has to hold himself at arms’ length from the memory of ancient despair and grief.

“What was the beginning of the universe like?”

Lucifer is silent. But his fingers don’t pause, neither does his body stiffen with tension. There’s a thoughtful expression on his face, eyes distant. After a few minutes he speaks.

“There aren’t enough words in your language for me to describe it. I can describe the way everything exploded into being, the oneness of singing my Father’s praises with my brothers. But they would be approximations at best, in no way adequate.”

“That ineffable, huh?” Sam raises his head from where he’d nestled it against his lover’s not-heartbeat. Lucifer’s face is solemn, slightly sad around the edges, but soft where he looks at Sam. “You have to have some adjectives for it, though. Was it like Hawking described it? A Big Bang?”

“Actually, it was more a crescendo of being from nothing than any sort of cacophony a human can try to comprehend with its limited perception.” Lucifer pauses, a considering glint to his eyes. “I can show you my memories, if you like.”  

“Show me? You mean, witness firsthand?” For a moment Sam’s stunned. Excitement follows shortly afterwards, but tempered with caution. “Yes! Yes, I definitely want to see. But, Lucifer –“ There’s a crinkle in his brow that the archangel smoothes over with his finger. “That won’t… fry my brain or anything, will it? I mean, if seeing angels' true forms can burn human eyes out–“

“Hush, Sam.” Lucifer’s smiling, amused. “I promised to never harm you, remember? You’ll be safe with me in whatever we do. Now,” he lays two fingers against Sam’s temple. “close your eyes.”

A burst of blinding white heat, and Sam is falling.

He screams, and the scream turns to one of joy as pulls himself up from the steep dive he’d taken from heaven’s borders. He’s flying, brothers beside him, wheeling around and into what was once pure nothing. The dark is dense, deep, and clinging, but he and his brothers burn it away with their combined grace, their wingbeats leaving trails of cosmic dust. The dust coalesce, form nebulae birthing stars and galaxies, the work of billions of years condensed to seconds, until the void is all but consumed by the light of the new stars, shards of light wheeling in space as the universe wakes up.

 _“H_ _é_ _lel! Over there!”_     His younger brother points him to a slowly spinning globe of gas in an otherwise empty corner of space. His brothers are ringed around it, the light of their aureoles and wings enough to rival the young stars. They’re waiting for him and singing, their songs and praise reverberating in the newborn universe. His voice joins their chorus, his hands thrumming with grace, the globe spinning faster and faster until it ignites, flinging light and dust, the burning brightness threatening to scorch his brothers’ wings as they laugh and play in the light of the new sun.

He however is spent. While his brothers chant praise and love to the Highest he hangs suspended in a stray sunbeam, wings folded. The sound of wingbeats, and his older brother alights next to him, watching the planets form just beyond. “Morningstar,” Michael smiles at him. But before Hélel can grin back there’s the weight of a hand on his shoulder, and  _He’s_ there, majesty and wisdom and that slight sadness in his gaze whenever He looked at him that Hélel could never understand.

At the birth of the universe, with his father behind him and his tips of his brother’s wings touching his, Hélel has never felt more joy and love filling his entire being. This is the start of everything, he knows.

Sam comes to himself with a gasp.

There’s a low throbbing in his head right now, sparks and stars behind his closed eyelids as he steadies his breathing in great calming gasps. Lucifer’s hand is cool where they rest against his forehead, the other tracing idle patterns on the back of his neck. “Wow,” he manages, mouth dry, and Lucifer smirks. There’s a touch of wistful longing and sadness clinging to his expression that makes Sam pull him as close as possible, once his hands stop shaking.

“They didn’t call me Lightbringer without a good reason.” Lucifer’s rests his forehead on Sam’s. “When I was in the Cage, the memory of the sun was one of only two things that kept me warm.”

 “What was the other thing?” Sam’s voice is hoarse, his whole body overheated, like a million volts have just gone through it. But the tenderness on Lucifer’s face feels even better than the cooling grace that washes over him.

“The thought of you. Only and ever you, Sam.”


End file.
